Glass and Hellfire
by UnitedHaruDinmarkOreo's Books
Summary: (Prequel to The Second Kessler). No one knows my real name. Only my surname. Calloway. So Augustine named me Edward. Not a bad name. And she taught me how to fight, gave me a home, friends. A life. But then Delsin Rowe took that all away from me, destroyed Curdun Cay. I'm going to return the favour. Victor Tate and Moya Jones can't stop me. Glass isn't as fragile as it looks.
1. Piano Wire

**Another inFAMOUS fic from Third Son! Yay! What I'm hoping to do is tie in all these fics ('The Second Kessler', 'The Library of New-Marais' and 'Glass & Hellfire') into one epic at some point. Review if you like this and don't forget to fav/follow. As always... DISCLAIMER: I do not own inFAMOUS, that belongs to Suckerpunch and/or other respective owners. Note: This is set before and during inFAMOUS Second Son's good storyline and is in the same universe as 'The Second Kessler'. Personally, I think this has a better story line.**

**Thanx and PEACE!****  
><strong>**Oreo**

* * *

><p>My eyes were closed. My breathing was slow. My fingers flitted across the keys. It was easy. I had been doing this for so many years, it was like a second language. I opened my eyes to try something new. A risk. I pulled it off perfectly and smiled when I heard one of the judges gasp. I finished with a low chord and a single high note. I exhaled calmly and got up from the piano stool. Facing the judges, I got a little embarrassed by the looks of shock and envy they were giving me and started to fiddle with my rainbow coloured wristband.<p>

"You may go now." The judge on the left managed to say. I nodded my head and walked away from the piano, returning backstage where Darren Cohen was waiting for me. He had ditched his usual black and yellow coat for an expensive Italian suit and wore glasses. He's never told me his age but I guessed that he's around thirty-years-old. His head was shaved bald and he had a burn scar on the right side of his face. Despite this, his smile still made me feel warm and appreciated.

"That was amazing, Eddie!" He exclaimed. I thanked him and returned his smile. "Now, Ms. Augustine said that we have to be back by eight o'clock so, I'm sorry, but that means that we can't wait to see what the judges will say." My smile dropped.

"But- "

"Don't worry! I talked to the judges and they agreed to send me an email if you get a place in the finals, which I have no doubt that you will." He smiled at me. Darren has practically been my father ever since Augustine took me in. He's practically one of the only people I can talk to. Not to mention Augustine made him responsible for me.

"Thanks a lot, D." The competition means a lot to me. The only time I ever had a chance to shine at something normal. I knew how to play the piano long before I developed my powers and when Darren discovered how good I am, he convinced Augustine to let me take part in the under-18s piano competition, somehow sure that I would easily win. Now that I had seen the judges' reaction I was feeling a bit smug.

"Come on, then." Darren was about to walk out of the back-exit.

"Wait!" he turned around.

"What is it?"

"I need the toilet." I said, making a face.

"Make it quick then."

I walked to the men's toilets and went inside the cleanest-looking cubicle. Once I had finished my business, I washed my hands and face and stared at myself in the mirror. I fixed my wavy blond hair which had started to fall into my eyes. Looks were important to me. If I don't look good, I don't feel good. My eyes were my favourite part of my body. One was teal coloured and the other was turquoise. I had a small scar on my bottom lip which refused to fade and I used to be self-conscious about it but recently decided that it looks cute. My nose was pretty fat but that was kinda cute too. I flexed my arms and admired my reflection. I like to think that I had gotten all my bulk from puberty and rigorous training but that extra bit of definition, that made me stand out from everyone else, came from my Conduit powers.

Darren was waiting outside. We went out of the back exit together and walked for a while until we reached the parking lot. We passed all sorts of cars, most of them limousines, until we reached our ride. I took a step back to get a good look at the huge black APC (armored personnel carrier) with a bright yellow trim. It was built like a tank, with an 8-inch thick titanium shell, but could drive faster than most cars. There was a rectangular shaped automatic turret mounted at the top. _That's new,_ I thought looking at the gun. Darren noticed me staring at the turret. "You need all the security you can get, Eddie."

"You know I can handle myself." I replied

"_I _know," He sighed, "but you know what Ms. Augustine is like. She just doesn't want you to fall into the wrong hands." I understood, but it still felt embarrassing having to be driven everywhere in an armoured vehicle and have Darren as my bodyguard/escort when normal kids get normal cars and normal parents. But, of course, I was far from normal. Suppressing my reluctance, I opened the door - refusing to let Darren open it for me - and climbed inside the APC, with my faithful bodyguard behind me. There were already two guys already inside wearing body-armour with a helmet and a flip-up visor. They both had assault rifles with, I noticed, the safety off. I sighed again as Darren motioned for the driver to start.

I closed my eyes, hoping to maybe get a little bit of sleep on the two-hour ride back home, when I felt a vibration on my thigh. My phone. I took it out and read a new text message.

_How'd it go?__  
><em>_Did you get me a souvenir?__  
><em>_We all miss you... even the homicidal prisoners!__  
><em>_CYA soon!__  
><em>_Celia XXX_

I smiled and replied before putting my headphones on to hum along to Jonsi. _'Eyes open wide, blinded by the sun now/ Orange and white, dark red, green and yellow/ Rainbow colors! Do not hide, see the view/ Step aside, go through!...'_

* * *

><p>Finally, after exactly one hour and fifty-eight minutes of boring uneventfulness, we finally reached home. Well home to the few of us who can call it that. Most call it a prison. Curdun Cay. Augustine was waiting outside the gigantic metal and concrete door with a stern look on her face. She looked the same way she always looks with the slight exception of snow gathering on top of my head that just made me feel like bursting out in laughter.<p>

"You're late." She said curtly as me and Darren exited the APC and walked towards the entrance. I looked at my watch. The time was 8:01. Typical Augustine. "Mr. Cohen, the prisoner we have been tracking for a while is in a cell. I need you to interrogate him while I tend to another matter." Darren patted me on the shoulder and muttered 'see you later' before walking towards inside. The huge doors opened slightly to let him through and Augustine turned back to me "Edward, how did it go?" She asked with a warm smile.

"I think I did pretty good," I smiled back at her, "we didn't get the judges' verdict yet, though."

"I am sure Mr. Cohen made arrangements for you to find out later, somehow."

"Yeah, they're gonna send an email, if I get through."

"And I am positive that you most definitely will." If my face would allow it, then my grin would stretch from ear to ear. She was the second adult to say that. "I'm sorry, but I am quite busy right now. I can catch up with the three of you tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am." I saluted jokingly.

"Teenagers." She muttered and with that she turned around and walked off, her blue trenchcoat flapping in the icy wind, towards an the same APC that I had just came out of. I walked inside Curdun Cay, saying hi to the DUP agents standing on either side of the door, and took my phone out to text Celia.

_I'm BACK!  
>Where R U 2?<em>

I hit 'send' and got a reply in a few seconds.

_Jace is in his room... probz painting somefing  
><em>_I'm in the kitchen  
><em>_Dinner's ready in 10  
><em>_B there or DIE!  
>X<em>

"Heh." I said out aloud. I decided to make my way to Jace first so I jogged the wide, open hallways until I reached an elevator. I pressed the button and stood back, fiddling with my rainbow wristband as I waited. With a elegant _Di__ng!_ that had no right to be inside Curdun Cay, the doors opened... and a fully grown man in bright orange prisoner overalls sprinted straight past me. DUP agents raised their guns to shoot at him but he raised his hands on either side of his body and a sound of a thousand metal slinkys was followed by a gigantic wheel of shifting, rotating wire on each side. The bullets that the agents shot were cut to pieces by the wire and the guy kept running._  
><em>

"STOP HIM!" I heard a shout from somewhere towards my left. I instantly recognised it as Darren's voice. The prisoner is probably the one he was meant to interrogate. Obviously he wouldn't get far, but Augustine will not be happy when she finds out that he got out of his cell in the first place. Wait a second... Why haven't the agents stopped him yet? He almost reached the door when Darren smashed his foot into the ground and made a pillar of concrete shoot out from the ground under the prisoner. He gracefully rolled out of the way and raised his hands, making the spinning wire-constructs around him turn into an arsenal of swords. He thrust his hands upwards and the swords flew in every direction. Darren created a swirling barrier of concrete around me and him to block them and, as soon as he had blocked them, he raced towards the prisoner. I looked around the hallway in horror. The DUP agents, _all _of them... were impaled on the swords, spurting blood all over the ground. _Oh my God..._

Darren made a twisting pillar of concrete shoot out from under him and launched himself in front of the prisoner, while I just stood there... paralysed with terror. I'd been training for this for almost five years. But this, _this, _was something I had never seen. I felt so sick that I didn't even notice the battle between Darren and the prisoner. All I knew was that when I looked up, Darren was on the floor - unconscious - and the prisoner with wire powers stood over him, with a thin length of rigid wire in his raised hand. He was going to kill Darren.

"NO!" I shouted. Raising my hands, I shot two shards of fluorescent green glass at him, aiming for his knees. He saw them coming and rolled out of the way. I launched myself at him by making a pillar of glass shoot out from the ground, similar to the the way Darren did just moments ago, and shot a molten glass rocket at the prisoner as soon as I landed. He tried to block it with a swirling wire-shield but some of the glowing-hot glass melted through and burned his face. He screamed crazily and released a stream of intertwined wires towards me. I crossed my arms over my chest in a defensive stance and long glass shards sprang out from my palms, creating a shield. The wire didn't penetrate my shield but the force still threw me far back and I landed painfully. My vision went black for a few seconds and when it cleared I saw a single, deadly wire shooting towards me. I intercepted it expertly with a glass shard and flipped back up, throwing a cluster of viciously shaped green caltrops at him. He tried blocking them with another wire-shield but they exploded and sent him flying backwards. Before he touched the ground, his body erupted into a shower of red and black, glowing-hot cinders.

"You alright?" A familiar voice asked me. I turned my head to see a tall albino teen with a miniature swarm of the same red and black particles around his arm. Jace Mahay.

"Fine, Jace." I got up and jogged over to where Darren lay. I checked his pulse and tried to spot any serious injuries. Except for a nasty bruise on the forehead, he seemed fine. I didn't raise my head so that I wouldn't have to see all the dead agents again. Where the prisoner once stood was now a lump of ash. A few tears started to streak down my face. I quickly turned around, so Jace couldn't see, and wiped my face. Suddenly, I heard a quick burst of feedback and then a voice coming from the wall-mounted tannoys:

_Dinner's READY!_

* * *

><p><strong>Please review and tell me what you guys think. I spent waaay too long in this chapter and I'm sorry if anyone wants me to continue The Second Kessler first but I really want to get into this one. The next chapter will be FULL of easter eggs and I just can't wait to write it.<strong>

**Bye for now  
>Oreo<strong>


	2. Vincent and Diane

**Well… urm… sorry guys! I took waaay too long to update this story. Just… having a really emotional time with… ur yeah… you don't wanna know that! What you DO wanna know is that I'll be a LOT more active now. Already planning ANOTHER inFAMOUS fic, this one's set in Victorian London and is actually a crossover with Assassin's Creed. Big thanks to my co-writer, Darkwolf Publications (AKA. Zeta) who really helped integrating his OC into the Second Kessler/Glass and Hellfire universe.**

**Anyways yeah… so now lets give it up for… EDWARD!**

**Thanx and PEACE!**

**Haru.**

* * *

><p>It wasn't as bad as I first thought.<p>

Only one Agent had been killed. The rest were seriously injured and in the infirmary but the doctors confidently assured me and Darren that they'd be fine. Darren himself only had a mild concussion from that nasty blow to the head and had to skip dinner, much to Celia's disapproval. The three of us, me, Jace and Celia (who was still wearing the rainbow apron that I had bought her for her last birthday) sat quietly at the large dining table. Unique, square-shaped plates piled up with an authentic English dinner of Sunday Roast, all cooked by Celia alone. I had to change my clothes, which had been torn up, and now I was wearing a light gray t-shirt with black chinos.

I hardly ate anything, there may have been only one Agent killed, but I still knew that man. 'Jonsi' I used to call him a couple of years back (when I gave nicknames to all the Dupes) because his surname was Jones and he was cross-eyed like my favourite singer. But that wasn't the worst part. He had a wife and two adorable daughters; one was only two months old and the other barely three years. Who was going to tell them that their father had been killed? I felt sick just at the thought.

Celia and Jace were exchanging nervous glances, probably concerned about me, but I didn't care. Sighing, I ate a forkful of roast, I had to eat _something_ or I'd upset Celia. Before I knew it, I had already finished my dinner. God, I've got an appetite… well at least I'm not putting on any fat. Celia and Jace still looked nervous and they didn't look like they were about to speak any time soon, so I piped up first.

"Celia told me you were painting something," I looked at Jace, "Can I see?"

The albino was about to reply when Celia interrupted, "He won't even let me _see _what it is!" She gave him a playful slap on the back of his head before gathering the plates to put in the dishwasher.

Jace leaned over to me, "I'll show you later." He whispered.

"I heard that!" Celia shrieked in a girlish way, "How could you show him but not me?" She made a pouty face and put the dishes down to wrap her arms around Jace's neck. She rubbed her nose against the back of his neck, "Don't you love me anymore?" Jace laughed at this and pulled her into a quick kiss before whispering something into her ear. Celia seemed satisfied with what he said and grabbed the dishes from where she had left them.

A thought occurred to me that is pretty common when I see this kind of behaviour from the only two friends I've ever had:

_We're _assassins!_ Celia is probably the funnest assassin in the world… and Jace acts like some high-school skateboarder. A good-looking one, I have to admit… but we're just ordinary. Apart from our powers, of course. And me! I'm gay… again probably a precedent for assassins. I know Augustine calls us the DUP special assets and sometimes 'special operations agents' but there's no doubt that a more accurate term _would _be 'assassins'._

_But we can't be heroes either. Some people out there are maniacs and murderers. They have to be put down. People like that crazy wire-controlling prisoner that almost killed me. The world needs people like us— _

"Earth to Ed… Edward do you copy?" Jace was waving his hand in front of my face, smiling. I shook my head, moving the thought to the back of my head to ponder on later. "Celia's gone now, I'll show you the painting." I smirked and followed him out of the kitchen into a long corridor. When we got to the art room —which neither me or Celia ever spend much time in, in fact Augustine made the art room just for Jace when she find out his artistic talent ("Every talent should be honed" She says)— I immediately noticed the large 2 by 1 metre canvas. And the painting on it… was _amazing_.

It showed the three of us sitting on giant thrones. I was on the left, sitting on a throne made of elegant, green-coloured glass that created rainbow spectrums on the edges, with a silly grin on my face. Jace was sitting on the right, on top of a throne that looked partially transparent and made out of Hellfire— red and black particles. And in the centre, sitting cross-legged like a queen was Celia; her throne was made of paper, of course, and was the most decorated of all three. In the background stood Augustine, Darren and a few DUP agents that we had gotten close to, including agent Jones and they were all smiling which, in Augustine's case, was pretty rare.

"Wow," I breathed, lost for words, "it's so realistic." I mumbled after a few seconds of admiring it. Even that was an understatement, it was more realistic than any photo I've ever seen. Every single tiny detail was present, every single little hair on my arms, the scar on Celia's upper lip, the way Augustine's eyes twinkled on the rare occasions that she _does_ smile. "Just… Wow!" I repeated.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Jace asked me.

"Who, Celia?"

"Yeah… it's her birthday next month. I thought I'll make this early so that she wouldn't suspect that it's her birthday present."

"Wait, this isn't the one that you've been working on since June?"

"Yup!" He seemed indifferent about the fact that he had been working on this painting this for four months, "Masterpieces take time, y'know."

I smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "She'll love it, man."

I walked out of the art room, leaving Jace to add some more tiny details to his painting. I was going to see Darren and ask if he knew when Augustine was going to be back when I bumped into the very same Conduit.

"Hey, Darren." I muttered. He tilted his head downwards to look me in the eye. I'm not exactly short but my 5'9" can't compare to his 6'4" — and definitely not to Jace's 6'7". Well, at least I make it up in bulk and muscle which, in my opinion, is way better.

"Jones… urm… I talked to his wife. We've arranged a payment that'll keep them afloat for a long time." He finally said after examining my eyes for a moment.

"So that's it. Someone dies and we give their families money." I replied, a little too harshly.

"Well, we can't exactly bring Jones back to life, Ed. He was my friend too."

I sighed, starting to pull at my rainbow bracelet, "Yeah… I know. It's just… hard to accept, y'know?"

"I know," He patted me on the back. I was about to change the subject to something less depressing, maybe talk about Jace's amazing painting, but Darren beat me to it. "You know, Ms. Augustine has been wanting me to let you talk to a couple of prisoners about joining your team." _Huh? What is he talking about? _"What do you mean?"

Darren pulled out an iPad from his DUP coat and tapped away at the screen until he found a file. There was a photo of a girl with ink-black hair, violet eyes and a splash of freckles on her face. "We've found another two teenage Conduits with a lot of potential. Andrea Quincy. She has Ink powers. Demonstrated quite a few feats with them too."

"Wait, Ink? That can't be very useful."

"Tell that to the police officers she suffocated with it. And, then again, your Glass powers aren't as fragile as they sound, and having super-strength as a by-product is completely bizarre."

"Not that bizarre!" I protested and then flexed a massive bicep to prove my point.

"Let's stay on topic," Darren smiled, "Okay forget Andrea, look at _this_ power-house—" He swiped the screen and a new file with a photo of an African American dude popped up— "Vincent Tate. Read it." He said, passing me the iPad. I quickly skimmed through the information.

"Magnetism." I commented, raising my eyebrows.

"More accurately, Metakinesis. He can even manipulate metal that's non-magnetic."

"Sounds pretty powerful. But he's nowhere near experienced enough to beat me."

"Don't underestimate him. He almost beat Ms. Augustine."

I let out a low whistle, "Damn. But she does tend to let her guard down so that doesn't prove much… But, tell me again, why are you showing me these?"

"Ms. Augustine would very much love to have these two on the team. They'd make great assets—"

"Three's a crowd already." I interrupted.

"Well, to be honest, I doubt he'll agree anyway. He doesn't listen to a word Ms. Augustine says unless she threatens to kill Andrea. But she wants you to try anyway."

"Are them two together?"

"Yes, young love is so stupid," He answered, shaking his head.

"I'm telling Celia you said that." I muttered with a smirk.

Darren ignored me, "The two of them were on the run from us when we eventually caught them. They put up a fight, but when Ms. Augustine, herself, came… they lost."

"But still… Ink is just stupid. What is she gonna do? Write people to death?"

Darren shook his head somewhat reprimandingly, "Again, Ed, Andrea's not one to underestimate either."

"Whatever." I smiled in one corner of my mouth. "So am I gonna meet them or what?"

"Celia's gonna talk to Andrea, you got Vincent."

"Celia already knows?" I asked. Darren nodded. When he nods or shakes his head instead of saying 'Yes' or 'No', it means he's tired of talking, so I silently followed the middle-aged Conduit down a few long hallways until we reached the right-wing of Curdun Cay. Where the prisoners are kept.

* * *

><p>"Good evening, Vincent," Darren said as he walked into the room. He sat down on a plastic chair by the hard oak table in the middle of the room. There was a small mattress on the opposite side, but Vincent was also sitting in one of the chairs. It was probably more comfortable anyway, I thought, looking at the state of the mattress, "How was dinner?"<p>

"I'd give it Five Stars! Top shelf quality. It tasted like shit, you idiot." Vincent replied."It's fucking prison food."

_Well he's a sarcastic one_.

"Vincent, I've brought Edward here to talk to you—"

"Ohh.. that's what your puppy's name is!" He smiled and laughed, "Thanks but no thanks, I'm more of a cat person."

_The_ _little bastard!_ I clenched my fists.

Vince smiled even wider, "What's the matter, widdle doggy? You need master to take you out for a walk?"

"Edward, sit down." I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly before sitting down in the chair next to Darren, "I'll leave you to it." He got up from his seat and wasted no time leaving the room.

Vincent had his hands resting on the table and I noticed that they were encased in concrete. He could probably absorb them if they were metal anyway. In fact, looking around the room now, I realised that nothing was made of metal— all plastic, concrete or wood. Smart move.

"Vince," I spoke up at last, "Can I call you Vince?"

"Can I call you 'Caveman'? 'Cause, you sound like you're from the Stone-age…"

I had to exhale again to calm myself down, "I'm Scottish."

"Meh. Same thing."

I put my arms on the table and started fiddling with my wristband in annoyance. This dude is really starting to piss me off… and it's barely even been five minutes.

"Okay, so… Augustine wants you to join our team—"

"Pfff… if you think I'm gonna join the Dupes then you've got another thing coming."

"There's three of us and we're all teens. This place is practically our home—"

Vincent laughed, "This place, a home? That's just sad!"

I started to rub at my temple and closed my eyes for a few seconds before continuing, "Augustine takes care of us. The two of you don't have to run anymore. You can stay here, this is a safe haven for _all_ Conduits. Don't you want that for yourself and Andrea? The DUP isn't _bad_, Augustine—"

"Honestly… I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck."

"So you wanna be stuck here, in prison, for the rest of your life? And you don't mind that your girlfriend is too?"

Vince leaned back in his chair and tried to rest his head in his hands but the Concrete made it awkward and he had to sit down normally, "I dunno, it's pretty nice and cosy… and you can't find better food anywhere else!"

"Dude, just hear me out, you don't—"

"Are you gay? You sound gay." The way he said it… made me want to rip his head off.

"Um. Yes. I'm gay."

"Well _that_ explains a lot," He raised his brows, "to be honest, I really don't understand why I should be talking to a DUP faggot."

_Thats it!_ I put a hand under the table and flung it away with a flick of my wrist. Grabbing the little idiot by the neck, I slammed his body into the nearest wall and the force caused the surface to crack.

"Oh wow!" He croaked, his voice strangled, "Do you work o—" I cut him off by squeezing his neck.

"Y'know, you have a really annoying talent of pissing people off. Now that's _really_ not a good first impression," I curled my other hand into a fist and made a Glass gauntlet around it.

"If we're gonna have a fight, at least make it fair." He managed to say, eyes flicking to the concrete on his hands. _The bastard needs to be taught a lesson._ I turned the gauntlet into a blade— sharp enough to slice through the concrete— and was about to cut his restraints off when something hard hit me in the back.

I dropped Vince to the ground and turned to find Darren with a stern look on his face and a small boulder of Concrete levitating above his hand, "That's enough, Ed."

"Yeah, _Ed_," Vince piped in, "maybe you should listen to your master." _BITCH!_ I whirled around and punched a giant hole through the wall, less than an inch from his face.

"I _dare_ you to say another _word_, you little black—"

"ENOUGH!" Darren grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me away from Vince. With a casual flick of his wrist, he repaired the hole in the wall. When we were out of the prison cell Darren spoke up, "Ed, you need to control your temper." I shook my head, not wanting to explain myself. If I started talking, I wouldn't stop there, I'd end up going back and smashing Vince's face to a pulp, "Ed, I'm being serious_._"

"Urrgh. Whatever!" I turned around, ready to leave.

"Hey faggot!"

_I'm going to KILL this little-_

"In all seriousness, what you're doing is wrong." Vince was standing up, a perfect stance for me to beat the shit out of him, but Darren had me by the shoulders. "You're imprisoning people against their will, in the name of safety? I believe that everyone should be free to make their own choices, even in this world where freedom can lead to death. I'm not going to help you," He continued, "Because I don't believe in what you're doing. If you really wanted to help conduits, you'd be trying to establish our rights and teaching us how to control our powers, not throwing us in here and teaching us how to kill people."

_That was a lot more reasonable than what I expected…_ "So you think Conduits should be free to make their own choices?"

"Yeah, everyone should be free to do that." A sly grin spread across his face, "Just like you chose to be a queer-ass faggot."

_Okay this guy must've been a prick since birth, _"I chose to be gay the same day _you_ chose to be Black. And you're probably the most naive person I've met," thankfully he still hadn't interrupted me yet, "we can't just wave a magic wand and make everything fair for Conduits. We have to tame rogue Conduits, like you, to prove to the _humans_ that we're safe to be around. Right now they think we're terrorists, and the DUP is the only thing keeping us safe from them. But, to reach our ultimate goal of peaceful coexistence, a few bodies have to drop first." Vince brooded on this for a few seconds before replying.

"Hey, I was just wondering… Are you a top or a bottom?"

Darren gave me a warning-look before I could even reply with a fist in his face. Snarling, I spun on my heels and stormed out of the room.

* * *

><p>"... and then I just walked off." I finished recalling the entire event, sitting cross legged on Celia's bed. Her room was a lot different to mine, a lot neater. Even the 'One Direction' and 'Union J' posters on the walls were arranged parallel to each other. She had little complicated works of origami sitting on shelves and hanging from the ceiling on pieces of string. Except for that, everything were warm shades of coffee, Celia's favourite colour after white. No mess at all. Seriously OCD.<p>

"Yeah, maybe he's just angry at being kept in prison. How did Darren react?"

"He threw a boulder at me. It didn't hurt, obviously. But still... has he ever thrown a boulder at you?"

"I'm a _girl_ and I'm not as durable as you," She was folding a piece of paper in her hands, "At least _something_ happened. Andrea Quincy didn't even _speak_ to me. Literally! There was no response at all, she just sat there and pretended I didn't exist!"

I smiled, "Now _that's_ annoying."

"Tell me about it." She mumbled. "Here." She put down the half-finished origami construct and pulled a laptop out from under her pillow. She switched it on and, once it had loaded, clicked on a file called The List. The List was a compilation of the data on all known Conduits. To people with a high level clearance password— like Celia— it also gave access to all of the DUP's data. And the DUP knew pretty much everything there was to know.

She pulled up a file and I instantly recognised it as Vincent's. A mischievous smile spread along my lips as Celia passed me the laptop with a smirk and I noticed that there was an 'Edit' option.

"Sweet revenge." I clicked on his photos and scrolled down until I found one suitable for the file's cover, "Oh my God, Celia, look at this!" I showed her the laptop screen and it took her a few seconds just to process what the photo showed. And then the two of us were reduced to a laughing wreck for ten minutes.

"Oh my…"

"Rainbow!"

"It was _rainbow_!"

"I swear that must be from the 60's."

"Disco outfit!"

"RAINBOW POLYESTER!"

"PFFFFHAHAHA!"

A few clicks later, that ridiculously funny photo became the first thing someone would see when they view his file.

"I don't think I've laughed that much since… ever." Celia commented, wiping away a tear, only to burst out in another fit of giggles. I carried on editing bits of his file until I was satisfied (his school reports now focused on how many times he wet his pants in maths lessons) and then handed the laptop back to Celia. "Sooo…" She started, "Did you see what Jace was painting?"

"Urr… No." I denied.

"Don't lie to me, Ed." She smirked and, before I knew it, she had created an impossibly sharp paper knife and was holding it to my throat.

I returned her smirk with my own, "I'd rather have you slit my throat than have Jace blow me to bits."

"You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

"No, but I'll get you a cuppa if you want."

"I don't understand half of your Scottish terms."

"Actually it's Irish in origin, I think… So do you want coffee or what?"

"Why didn't you just ask if I wanted 'Coffee'?"

"Gosh! You American's are so stupid." I groaned. Celia pulled her knife away from my throat, even though I had completely forgot that it was there, but punched me in the arm. It probably hurt her hand more than it hurt me. She was about to punch me again when she stopped and stared at me. But it didn't look like she was deliberately looking _at_ me, from the vacant look in her eyes. "Celia." I tried getting her attention.

She shook her head, "I just had a brainwave!" I stayed silent so that she could explain further. She brooded for a few more seconds before speaking up again, "Hey, do you remember when we did that project on 'Possible Conduits of The Past'?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"There was one female 'possible Conduit' who was my favourite… Diane Quincetta, and…" She started frantically tapping away at the keyboard until two images came up; one was an oil painting of Diane Quincetta and dated back to the Victorian Era; and the other was the photo of Andrea, "She looks _exactly _like Andrea Quincy." And Celia wasn't wrong either. They were almost identical; same eyes, same hair… even the same expression.

"Okay that's weird...but it's obviously a coincidence."

"I dunno." She looked a bit creeped out

"Okay… I'm going to my room now… and _do_ you fancy a cuppa?"

"Yes. I want coffee. Annoying Scotsman."


End file.
